A/N: Real quick, I have to give a huge shout out to indilwens for beta-ing this as well as redoing like all of the ending and making it 10 times better then what I wrote. Enjoy!
Sam staggered out of the bar, one hand clutching a bottle of beer and the other his stomach, and made his way to his car. He could hear someone yelling, presumably at him, telling him to call a cab and go home. Oh yeah, he just got kicked out of the bar. He fumbled to open the car door but slipped on the wet pavement and fell on his hands, shattering the glass bottle. He felt a pain and realized there was glass imbedded in his hand and he was bleeding. Whatever. The alcohol in his blood dulled what was probably a stinging pain, and anyways he was too drunk to really care.
He got up off his knees and got into his car and closed the door. He couldn't believe that his brother would say something that to him... His own damn brother. So what if he wanted to go to college? That's what most people did when the graduated high school, they went to college. And Sam had a full ride! He had always thought that Dean would be happy for him but instead he got…this.
"Screw Dean," Sam muttered to himself as he turned the engine on and cranked the stereo. For once, he didn't mind that the radio had found a classic rock station. In fact, he was happy that the loud music was there for him. He pushed the seat back so his feet couldn't reach the gas pedal and tried to drown out the thoughts of what Dean had just said to him with the Metallica blaring from the speakers.
All Sam wanted to do was visit his brother and dad over spring break, maybe even bridge the rift between the three of them, but even that had to end in disaster. So what if Sam didn't want to hunt? So what if he wanted to be a lawyer and get married and live a normal, safe life? Hunting was dangerous and unsteady, and for once he had found something that wasn't: Jess. And, what, just because he doesn't want to go down the same road as his brother and dad, he's suddenly the crazy one? Sam shook the thoughts from his head and found another bottle of beer on the passenger seat and opened it.
"I should have stayed with Jess," He slurred, talking to the bottle. The bottle, of course, had no response, so Sam just took a large sip and sighed. He stayed like that, fuming and sitting in the car with a beer and the local classic rock station blasting for what seemed like hours until he fell asleep.
xx~xx~xx
Last Night
"Why won't you come with me? What's this whole 'I'm in college now I can't possibly hunt a monster' thing about?" Dean said, raising his voice. Sam stood up.
"That's not who I am, Dean! That's not what I want to do! I just want a normal life with a normal job that I don't have a chance of getting killed every day! I want a job where I get paid!" Sam shouted. Dean clenched his teeth.
"Stop lying to yourself, Sam! This is who you are, this is who we are! We were raised hunters, we stay hunters!" Dean matched his brothers' tone.
"I can quit when ever I want to! In fact, I already have!" Sam countered.
"You quit when you're dead, Sam!" Dean said.
"Bullshit!" Sam yelled.
"You think you're so great 'cause you're leaving me and dad behind? Is that what this is about?" Dean shouted. They were two feet apart from each other, each one blowing steam out their ears.
"I want to live my own life. Sorry if that interferes with yours," Sam said through clenched teeth.
"Fuck you, Sam! I can't believe you're choosing school over your own flesh and blood! I fucking hate you!" Dean screamed.
"Well fuck you too! I'd rather be at school for the rest of my life then spend another minute with you!" Sam shouted in his brothers face. There were tears rolling down his cheeks. He grabbed his car keys off the table and stormed out of the motel, slamming the door as hard as he could on the way out. He dried his eyes and sped off to find a bar.
xx~xx~xx
Dawn came and the car had run out of gas and smelled like alcohol. There was a beer all down the front of Sam's shirt, and the window was down. He rubbed his eyes and tossed the empty bottle on the other seat.
"Oh shit..." He said, squinting at his phone. Thirty something missed calls from Dean and ten from his dad. Sam scoffed.
"Guess there's no mystery about who cares more," He commented to himself over the pounding of his own head. Sam's phone lit up again and he groaned, but answered it.
"Hey," He said casually.
"Damnit Sam, where the hell have you been?" Dean yelled. Sam winced and held the phone away from his head. Almost sensing his brother's pain, Dean backed down. "Shit, I- I'm sorry, Sammy," He said after a second.
"Don't call me Sammy," Sam said quietly.
"Sorry, Sam. I- I'm so sorry. I didn't mean a word of that last night, you know that, right? I swear I didn't," Dean apologized. Sam stopped. He could hear the guilt and concern in Dean's voice.
"Yeah," Sam replied slowly. There was a silence.
"I'm glad you're in college. I'm happy you're doing something you want to do. I just- I guess I couldn't understand that you didn't want to hunt. I'm sorry I tried to pressure you into coming with me. I should have known better. Where are you?" Dean asked. Sam suddenly felt a tidal wave of memories wash over him from last night as his brain flooded with visions of alcohol and broken glass. And that's when the pain hit.
"I'm uh... I'm at a bar called The Empty Barrel... and uh... I'm out of gas, and I think my hand needs stitches," He said, wincing from the pain, which was growing more acute by the second. Sam pulled the larger shards of glass out while holding the phone up to his ear with his shoulder.
"What? Jesus, Sam, what the hell did you do last night?" Dean replied. Sam could hear him grabbing keys and slamming a motel door shut.
"I got drunk," He said. He heard the familiar sound of the Impala roaring to life and Dean laughed.
"Sam, you're not even 21 yet you law-breaker!" He responded. Sam breathed out a laugh and sat back in his seat.
"Dean, you've been drinking since you were 18. Don't give me that shit," He said, shaking his head and pulling more glass out of his hand.
"Whatever, Sam. I know where you are, I'm on my way. Don't do anything else stupid, you got it?" Dean replied.
"Yeah," Sam said.
"Good," Dean said, hanging up.
Sam tossed his phone in the console and gritted his teeth while he pulled all of the glass he could get to out of his palm and fingers. A few minutes later, Dean arrived, screeching into the spot next to Sam's.
"Damn, you look like a fucking train wreck!" He said, getting out of his car.
"Thanks," Sam said, masking pain with sarcasm.
"Alright, get out. Let's go home and clean you up, sound good?" Dean said, helping his stumbling brother to the passenger side of his car.
"I just want to sleep," Sam said as Dean gently guided him into the seat.
"You can sleep after you get clean, how about that?" Dean said as he grabbed a clean cloth from the glove compartment and quickly bandaged Sam's hand before they headed for home.
After Sam was showered and clean, Dean got the rest of the glass out of his hand and wrapped it up. The two of them were quiet but there was forgiveness in the utmost gentleness that Dean used to pull out the fragments of the bottle and carefully suture Sam's palm, and in the way that Sam wholeheartedly trusted Dean's steady hands and didn't flinch or pull his hand away when Dean stitched it up.
After Dean finished and gave Sam an ice pack to dull the pain it didn't even take ten minutes for him to fall asleep on Dean's bed. John had left that morning to go pursue the case that Dean had wanted to take with Sam. Dean sat down at the table and realized how stupid their fight was last night. Dean hated fighting with Sam. They might disagree on this whole hunting thing, but it's not worth loosing his brother over. So, after Sam slept through lunch and half of the afternoon, Dean decided it was time to resolve the situation.
"Sam. Sam. Sam!" Dean yelled.
"What?" Sam groaned, sitting up on the bed. For a second Dean said nothing, choosing his words carefully.
"Look, I just wanted to say that I'm sorry I picked a fight with you last night. I know that's not how you wanted to spend your spring break," Dean said, looking down at the floor. Sam said nothing.
"You gonna leave tomorrow?" Dean asked after a while. Sam sighed.
"Uh... yeah. There's a bus that'll get me to where I want to go that leaves at eight. I'm gonna be on it," He replied. Dean nodded slowly.
"Yeah, ok. I figured you wouldn't want to stick around," He said.
"I'm sorry, man... Hey, why don't we grab some dinner together? Just, go out, sit down, and have a nice meal. I'll pay," Sam suggested. Dean looked up at his younger brother and smiled.
"Yeah, that uh... That sounds nice," he agreed. Sam smiled in return.
"Awesome," Sam said quietly. Then he stopped, suddenly having a realization.
"You know I'm not leaving because of you, right?" Dean, staring at his shoes, said nothing.
"Dean," Sam repeated quietly, "I'm not leaving because of you." Silence. Sam could have sworn there were tears in Dean's eyes. Sam sighed.
"Dude, if there was one thing in this crazy fucked up hunting life that I actually did like, it's you. I'm not leaving because of you. You're the only reason I stuck around this long. But college? I have to do it man, I have to get away from this life, but that doesn't mean that I love you any less."
Dean looked up.
"I love you too Sammy." Sam let it slide just this once.
The two of them were quiet for just a minute, sharing in each other's presence before Dean asked, "So dinner, eh? Anyplace? I'm thinking steak." He grinned coyly. Sam shook his head and laughed.
"Dude I'm a collage student. The only thing I could afford at a steakhouse would be a napkin, maybe a drink," he said.
"Ok fine bitch, but you owe me one."
"Whatever jerk." Sam smiled. Stanford may have all the law degrees and white picket-fence families in the world but all he needed was Dean. And for now, that was alright.